Chapter Text
Chapter Three
By the time Glinda finally waded out of the ocean, the moon had reached its highest point in the sky. Elphaba was gone, but Glinda wasn’t foolish enough to hope that the woman would wait for her. It was late, and Elphaba was determined to repair her boat as quickly as possible. Glinda had seen the exhaustion written all over her, and knew that if she somehow managed to crawl her way back to the boat, she’d find Elphaba fully unconscious, sleeping away the effects of the spell that Glinda had cast to heal her hands.
So, with nothing to do and nowhere else to go, Glinda found the boulder that she often spent her lonely nights away from the sea on top of and curled up, hoping that sleep would claim her quickly so that her mind wouldn’t have time to chastise her for confessing her biggest secret and deepest shame.
And for once, her mind obeyed.
When Glinda opened her eyes again, the sun was beginning to peak above the horizon, illuminating the beach and warming the bare skin of Glinda’s shoulders. Glinda immediately began scanning the open, sunny beach around her for any sign of Elphaba, though she was nowhere to be seen.
Of course, Glinda chided herself as she reluctantly hopped down from the large rock. She’ll be at her boat.
It took Glinda longer than she liked to return to The Defiance, where she found Elphaba working away on replacing more of the holes with the bamboo from nearby trees.
She didn’t look up as Glinda approached, though Glinda wasn’t sure if that was because Elphaba was too busy to hear her, or if she was ignoring her altogether.
But Glinda was silent as she came up beside Elphaba, who finally looked down when she noticed the shifting of the sands. She bit her lip, as though mulling over her words carefully, and Glinda was struck with the urge to tell her not to. She didn’t, however, mostly because Elphaba leaned down and handed her what looked to be a large, rough looking brush.
“Did you want to help?” Elphaba asked softly, sounding almost afraid of the answer.
No. I want you to stop, so you’ll stay with me. “Sure. What do you need me to do?”
The corners of Elphaba’s lips lifted upward in the beginnings of a small smile as she stepped back from the boat to stand beside her. “I just replaced most of the wood on this side, but it still needs to be sanded. Normally I’d use sandpaper, but since most of my supplies were lost in the crash, that will have to do.” She nodded at the brush still in Glinda’s hands. “Just run it along the surfaces and make sure it’s as smooth as possible. I’ll start on the other side.”
“Okay.”
Glinda waited for Elphaba to offer something more, maybe even bring up what happened last night, but she didn’t. For a moment the two of them simply stood there together, letting the breeze and the distant roar of the ocean fill the open space around them. It wasn’t until Elphaba cleared her throat and began shuffling her way to the other side of The Defiance, that Glinda released the breath she hadn’t even known she’d been holding.
Then she crawled toward her side of the boat and set to work.
The hours quickly began to blend together, Glinda’s mind replaying each moment with Elphaba to fill the silence. The work was tedious and dreadfully boring. Sanding the wood was as simple as it sounded, requiring absolutely no brainpower. As she worked, Glinda tried not to think back on the truths she’d confessed the night before, and how Elphaba had risked her life just to give her a kiss, right there in the water, putting herself at great personal risk.
Sometimes Glinda convinced herself that it had all been a dream. But then she’d remember the way Elphaba’s lips had felt against her own; the sweetness of her, and how it mixed with the saltiness of the damp ocean air; how the woman made her feel human for the first time since she’d become a siren. How she’d wanted to pull Elphaba into her own arms and give her a reason to stay, to abandon everything she knew and make a life out here together, just the two of them—
“Glinda?” Elphaba’s voice cut through the whirlwind of Glinda’s thoughts, snapping her back to reality. “Are you okay?”
Glinda blinked, turning to face Elphaba, who had appeared from the other side of the boat. She expected chastisement, or maybe even a slight rebuke, but all she saw was the small smile that had returned to the other woman’s face, and followed her gaze down to her own hand, which had paused in its task, leaning against the newly sanded wood of the boat.
“I’m fine,” Glinda squeaked as she pulled her hand away, feeling her cheeks heat. She’d just been caught daydreaming, but she hoped that the woman wasn’t also a mind reader on top of everything else. If she knew the thoughts that had distracted Glinda from her arduous work, she’d surely hasten her work so that she could leave this island, and Glinda, as soon as possible.
“Well, I have some more sardines down below,” Elphaba went on, shifting from one leg to the other. “I think we could both use a break.”
It wasn’t until then that Glinda noticed the sheen of sweat along her forehead and shoulders, running down her collarbone and dipping below her breasts. Her hands ached from the constant sanding, and the growling in her stomach made her realize for the first time that she hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous day.
She dropped the brush and began to crawl her way toward the cabin of the boat, but she quickly stopped when Elphaba closed the distance between them and scooped her expertly into her arms.
“Elphaba, you don’t–”
“I’ve carried you before,” the other woman pointed out as she brought Glinda toward the cabin, moving as gracefully and expertly as though carrying others was a common occurrence. “Surely you’d rather not crawl in the sand if you don’t have to.”
Glinda wanted to say something to refute this, but not a single thing came to mind, mostly because she was right; Glinda hated moving on land; her tail made it impossible to be anything other than clumsy and awkward, and the feeling of the course grains of sand against her bare skin always dug in and left horrible imprints that lingered for far too long. What Glinda wouldn’t give for even a couple hours with legs again, just to remember what it felt like to walk. To feel like a person again, even for a moment, was something she’d sacrifice almost anything for.
But she made no further comment as Elphaba took her back inside The Defiance. Glinda expected the woman to deposit her back in the corner she’d spent most of her time in while on the boat, but she set her down carefully on the edge of the bed instead, only removing her hands from underneath Glinda’s tail and around her shoulders once she was sure that Glinda wasn’t going to topple over the side.
Neither of them said anything as Elphaba moved toward the cabinets and pulled out two cans of sardines. After opening them and grabbing two forks, she came back to sit beside Glinda on the bed, extending one of the forks toward her.
Glinda blinked, surprised by the generosity. Having someone treat her like any other human–using utensils for something as simple as eating sardines out of a can–was something she’d just lamented, yet here she was, surprised by it nonetheless. And by Elphaba, of all people. The woman continued to surprise her.
She accepted the fork, a sudden warmness filling her as she did so. Part of her expected some quip about remembering how to use it, but Elphaba stayed silent as she took a bite from her own can, the growing silence filling the air between them.
For a while, the sounds of their forks scraping the sides of their cans was their only ambiance. Glinda racked her brain for something to say, mostly because she couldn’t stand the thought of wasting what little time she had left with Elphaba. She wanted to memorize these moments and hold them close once the green woman was gone, so that she could look back on them and remember that they’d actually happened. Maybe she’d even remember that not all humans were complete monsters, as Madame Morrible and the Tigelaars had led her to believe.
Because Elphaba was going to leave her. She’d already made that abundantly clear. It would be up to Glinda to figure out how to fill the space that she’d leave behind.
And she wasn’t sure if she was ready.
Neither of them said anything until their cans were empty. Elphaba took both of them and set them aside before turning back toward Glinda. Glinda felt the woman’s penetrating gaze on her and waited for her to suggest that they get back to work before the sun set, but she didn’t. Instead, Elphaba merely shifted until she was fully facing Glinda, who had to fight not to squirm. Not because she wasn’t comfortable, but because she suddenly wasn’t sure what Elphaba expected. She’d been the one to initiate their kiss last night in the water, but she hadn’t said anything about it since. They’d worked in silence all morning, leaving Glinda to believe that she’d prefer if it had never happened. She’d talked nonstop about how much she needed to fix up her boat so that she could return to her home and family, yet she sat here with Glinda now, making no move to continue the work she was so deadset on.
“Elphie, I–”
“Elphie?” The green woman interrupted, though when Glinda glanced at her, she saw no condemnation or malice, but rather a small, teasing smile.
“Yeah…” Glinda replied as she trailed off, suddenly shy. “I don’t know, it just…suits you, somehow. I’m sorry if–”
“No,” Elphaba–Elphie–said, cutting in once more. “I like it.”
Glinda couldn’t help the answering grin that spread across her own face.
Silence descended upon them once more as Glinda fought to get her thoughts in order. Her mind felt cloudy and thick, heavy with the emotions and thoughts that suddenly swelled within her. She felt Elphaba’s questioning gaze on her, but her brain suddenly stopped working. Her skin burned with barely repressed need, though she fought to hide it as best as she could. She couldn’t remember ever having felt like this before and had no idea what to do about it.
But then Elphie’s hand was there, on top of her own, and Glinda forgot how to breathe as well. She sucked in a short, quivering gasp, her entire body tensing as she glanced at Elphaba from the corner of her eye, but regretted it the moment she took in the other woman’s own heady stare. It felt like Elphaba was digging a hole straight to her soul, peeling back the layers to the core of Glinda’s entire being, leaving her bare and exposed.
Glinda found that she wanted her to see; wanted Elphaba to see how much she desired her, because she couldn’t come up with any words to express herself on her own.
Elphaba’s grip on her hand tightened imperceptibly.
“What were you going to say?” Elphaba breathed. The temperature in the room seemed to spike with every word that came out of her mouth.
“What?”
“Before I interrupted you,” Elphaba elaborated, not missing a beat. She squeezed Glinda’s hand and leaned in even closer, until there wasn’t more than an inch or two between them. “You were going to say something.” And then her lips were there, ghosting along the skin of Glinda’s neck, sending shivers down her spine and leaving her little more than a melted puddle where she sat. “What was it?”
“Oh…” Glinda began, but trailed off when Elphaba’s lips made contact with her skin.
The woman felt just as good–just as breathtaking–as she had last night.
Glinda’s thoughts fled her brain, much like the ships on the ocean did whenever they realized that Glinda was there, leaving her little more than an incoherent mess. She couldn’t do anything other than sit where she was and take Elphaba in–her touch, her heady scent that was an intoxicating mix of wood and the salt of the ocean. It was like a drug, and suddenly Glinda couldn’t get enough.
She pulled Elphaba closer, lifting her unoccupied hand up to cup the back of Elphaba’s head, keeping her in place as she turned her head, forcing Elphaba to break the kiss on her neck and meeting their lips together instead.
If she thought last night had been magical, this moment, right here on Elphaba’s bed in the middle of her broken boat, was nothing less than enchanting. Elphaba felt too good to be true–like her lonely mind had conjured her up to fill the aching need deep in her heart that she hadn’t even known was there. Part of her worried that, if she opened her eyes and came back to her senses, she would find that all of this had been a dream, and she’d be alone on the island once more.
As if to prove to herself that this was real, Glinda pulled the woman closer, pushing herself down on the bed and pulling Elphaba with her, so that had no choice but to lay on top of her.
If Elphaba cared, she didn’t let on. She didn’t break stride–didn’t even bother coming up for air, as she deepened the kiss and let go of Glinda’s hand, trailing her fingers down the bare skin of Glinda’s collarbone and arms instead.
Glinda would’ve moaned if her mouth was free. She didn’t think an innocent touch such as this could elicit so many feelings. She hadn’t even known she was capable of feeling this good, yet her Elphaba was, proving her wrong yet again.
“Elphie…” Glinda moaned between kisses, though she trailed off yet again as Elphaba’s mouth found hers once more, effectively cutting off whatever she’d been about to say. Glinda didn’t know. She wasn’t even sure what words were anymore. She was trapped in a pool of longing, with Elphaba as her lifeline, and she didn’t seem willing to pull her back up anytime soon.
And so Glinda finally gave up–finally gave in to these feelings and jumped head first over the edge, into the deep end, and let herself fully feel.
And oh, feel, she did.
Every touch, every caress, every breath. Glinda felt it all. She felt Elphaba’s heart beat frantically against her own; felt the woman’s pulse quicken with every kiss, matching Glinda’s own. She would’ve smiled if she could, but she returned the kiss with just as much fervor, hoping Elphaba would understand.
She could’ve stayed here like this forever, locked in an eternal embrace with Elphie. She didn’t think she needed anything as much as she needed to stay here, in this moment, with this woman for as long as she possibly could.
But then…it was gone.
Glinda blinked when Elphaba suddenly pulled away, feeling the loss of her lips like a stab to the gut. She blinked, trying to get her bearings, as Elphaba slowly got to her feet, avoiding her gaze all the while.
“Elphie, what–”
“I’m sorry, Glinda. We shouldn’t have done that.”
“What? Why–”
“Because I’m leaving!” Elphaba snapped, the sudden force of her words enough to make Glinda flinch.
Elphaba’s eyes widened when she noticed Glinda’s reaction. When she spoke again, her tone was gentler, but no less firm. “Once I get this boat repaired, I’m leaving.”
“But why?” Glinda’s voice broke on the last word as she stared up at Elphaba, the woman who held her heart so tightly in her grasp. “Elphie, I don’t understand–”
“Of course you don’t!” Elphaba exclaimed, cutting Glinda off yet again. Glinda reeled back, feeling as though she’d just been slapped. But Elphaba went on, her words pouring out of her as though a dam had been broken. “You can’t understand, because you’ve been alone longer than I’ve been alive! My family is waiting for me. They’re counting on me coming back and providing for them. I…I can’t just leave them…leave everything behind…for you.”
Glinda flinched again and turned away, her hands–no, her entire being–shaking from barely repressed emotion. It threatened to pull her under, drown her in its unrelenting tide.
But Elphaba, it seemed, wasn’t done breaking her heart, because she continued cutting her down right to the bone. “Unlike you, I have a life waiting for me. It may not be the life I wanted or chose for myself, but it’s a life nonetheless. What would I have if I stayed here? An ocean that would kill me at the first opportunity? Rush Margins may not be much, but it’s something–”
“This is something, too,” Glinda cut in quietly, forcing herself to look up into Elphaba’s eyes once more.
“Yes.” Elphaba sighed, and when Glinda expected her to begin insulting everything Glinda had and that she couldn’t help, she merely sunk into herself instead. And when she looked up and spoke again, Glinda felt her heart shatter inside her chest. “But what can come of it?”
Time seemed to freeze around them. Where Glinda had felt as though she’d been on top of the world only moments ago, now she was freefalling back toward earth; back toward her lonely, miserable existence, and a reality that wanted nothing to do with her.
The only sign that the world was moving on, with or without her, was the distant sound of a door slamming, and the empty space where Elphaba had just occupied, now as barren and lonely as Glinda’s broken heart.
What had Elphaba been thinking? Kissing Glinda–a siren–when she needed to focus on getting home. Giving in to feelings she’d started to think she was incapable of, because she was weak and starved for attention. Just because this growing attraction, or whatever it was, had begun to fill an empty part of Elphaba’s heart that she hadn’t even known existed…
Get a grip on yourself, Elphaba chided herself as she stepped back out into the warm afternoon air, the morning sun warm and dewy on her skin. Your family is counting on you.
She soon got to work, hoping the mundane task of repairing The Defiance and all the work it required would be enough to push Glinda and her rapidly growing guilt as far down as possible. The pained, deeply wounded look in Glinda’s eyes had nearly been enough for Elphaba to forget her duties and responsibilities entirely. Seeing the light seep out of Glinda had been too painful to take.
And so, like a coward, she’d fled.
She’s never going to speak to me again, Elphaba lamented as she continued sanding the new wooden stern of The Defiance. You’re not allowed to be disappointed. You did this to yourself.
It didn’t stop the gaping, Glinda-shaped wound in her chest from growing deeper and more painful with every passing moment. Elphaba kept a close eye on the door of the cabin as she worked, but Glinda had yet to emerge. She didn’t know whether to feel relieved by that or not, but every time she dared let herself hope that maybe Glinda would appear and absolve her of the unbearable guilt that weighed her down like an anchor tethering her to her misery, she remembered how harsh and needlessly cruel she’d been and that hope soon dissolved.
So she threw herself into her work instead.
By the time the sun had set and the island was surrounded by the darkness of night, Glinda still had not appeared. Maybe she’d taken up residence in Elphaba’s bed, claiming it for her own as revenge for Elphaba’s harsh rejection.
Elphaba wouldn’t blame her one bit if she had.
After tucking her tools away, Elphaba forced herself to go back down to the cabin and face whatever Glinda had in store for her.
She deserved whatever she was about to find.
But instead of becoming confronted with an angry blonde, she found Glinda curled into a ball on Elphaba’s bed. Fast asleep.
Elphaba couldn’t help but stare at Glinda’s prone form. Her hands were tucked underneath her chin, elbows pulled into her chest, as though trying to warm herself against the chill of the small cabin. Her brow was pinched tightly, her eyes clenched shut as though facing something unpleasant in her dreams. Elphaba was suddenly struck with the urge to push her way into Glinda’s mind and fight off whatever it was that was giving her such torment, pulling her into her arms to give her as much comfort as she could provide.
No, Elphaba snapped to herself as she walked to the bed and gently pulled the blanket out from underneath Glinda’s tail, gathering it in her arms. You don’t get to want her. Not anymore.
But that didn’t stop her from gently draping the blanket over Glinda, covering as much of her bare skin as possible. She froze when Glinda stirred, her face relaxing as her hands unfurled themselves to grip the edge of the blanket, but she merely pulled it underneath her chin and curled into it, her eyes thankfully remaining closed.
Elphaba stepped back and allowed herself to fully take her in. She looked so peaceful, so…human. It nearly took her breath away. Where her flesh had been slimy and scaly looking when they’d first met, it had a brighter sheen to it, smoother and less scaly.
Was it simply Elphaba’s imagination, or was Glinda…changing, somehow?
But Elphaba didn’t let herself dwell on it as she kicked off her boots, removed her jumpsuit, and sank down in the corner that Glinda had previously occupied. She laid down and examined the blonde once more, half expecting to find her awake and staring back at her, all the hurt and anger that had been reflected in her eyes earlier confronting her once more.
But Glinda remained fast asleep, curled into the blanket as though it was her shield against the rest of the world.
Satisfied that nothing more would be said that night, Elphaba forced herself to close her eyes and soon drifted off into a shallow, fitful sleep.
The next time she opened her eyes, Glinda was gone.
Elphaba’s heart skipped a beat and her body snapped into a sitting position as she searched the length of the cabin for any sign of the blonde. Surely she couldn’t have gotten far on her tail? Elphaba thought about running after her, but she forced herself to remain where she was. She’d made it clear that she was the one intent on leaving; on getting back to Rush Margins and her family as soon as possible. She didn’t get to be mad when Glinda took that to heart and left her as well.
So, she forced herself to get dressed, scarfed down another can of sardines, and went out to continue her work on The Defiance, feeling Glinda’s absence like someone had removed her heart.
As the day passed and her work continued, Elphaba would catch herself at random times, looking around and searching the island around her for any sign of the siren, missing her more than she expected.
It wasn’t until the sun had reached its highest point in the sky when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. When she turned, she saw Glinda, her surprisingly fleshy skin glistening with moisture and pointedly not looking at her.
Elphaba wanted to say something, but her mind had gone blank at the sight of the woman in front of her. Nothing seemed adequate, and she didn’t want to chase her away so soon after she’d returned, so she settled for picking up the brush she’d been using to sand the freshly applied wood and extended it in Glinda’s direction.
Her lips turned upward when Glinda accepted it without a word, but neither of them made any comment as they resumed their work silently, simply soaking in the other’s presence.They soon found a rhythm, working companionably alongside each other, both the kiss and Elphaba’s rejection seemingly forgotten. Well, it wasn’t forgotten to Elphaba, but if Glinda was willing to ignore it, then Elphaba would as well.
She didn’t want their last moments spent together to be tense and uncomfortable.
As though she’d read Elphaba’s mind, Glinda’s voice unexpectedly pierced through the otherwise silent air, quiet and uncertain. “How much more does it need?”
Pretty sure it’s done. “Maybe another sanding, then I’d like to check the decking to make sure there aren’t any holes.” Elphaba paused, making sure Glinda met her eye before adding softly, “I should be able to set sail the day after tomorrow.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she spoke the words aloud. For the first time, leaving the island was within her grasp. It had become real, as had the reality that she would be leaving Glinda behind.
She could see the moment the words hit home for Glinda as well, because her shoulders slumped and she lowered her gaze to the ground. Elphaba was struck with the urge to say something, to comfort her somehow, but she forced herself to remain silent, especially when this was her choice. She’d been the one to push Glinda away. She deserved to reap whatever consequences followed.
She definitely didn’t deserve what Glinda said next, her voice barely more than a whisper: “I hope you make it back to your family.”
And Elphaba felt her heart shatter that much more in her chest.
The last day of the repairs dawned bright and early. Glinda awoke in the bed to find Elphaba already gone, no doubt to start whatever work still needed to be done. She hadn’t bothered waking Glinda up, and Glinda wasn’t sure how she felt about it. But she got up anyway, ignored the rumbling in her stomach, and crawled her way out of the cabin and outside, where she found Elphaba on her knees on the deck a few feet away, hammering a new piece of wood into the floor below.
Glinda felt her breath catch in her chest as she took a moment to simply bask in Elphaba’s presence. All of this will be gone by tomorrow. Elphaba would be no more than a distant memory, like a ghost on the wind, and Glinda would be alone once more, as she had been ever since Madame Morrible had cast that horrendible curse on her all those years ago.
If she was the siren she’d been even a week ago, she’d tear apart the work that Elphaba had painstakingly completed, sabotaging as much as she possibly could in order to extend Elphaba’s presence with her on this island for as long as possible. The idea was tempting even now, and the only thing that stopped her from doing exactly that was the fact that Elphaba would hate her and never forgive her.
And what was the point in staying with an Elphaba who would no longer be able to stand the sight of her?
Ignoring her growing need to find water, Glinda crawled her way over to Elphaba, torn between wanting her to look up and say something, and continue working, pretending that she was no longer there. Because Glinda would have to get used to being alone once more; she’d have to remember what it was like to live without Elphaba or her surprisingly comforting presence. She needed to memorize these moments, so she’d have something real to hold onto in her darkest times, when she’d lay awake at night and wonder whether Elphaba had even existed at all.
“Anything I can do to help?” she asked, feeling her chest constrict with every word.
Elphaba didn’t look up, or stop in her task. She merely pointed toward the toolbox off to the side that Glinda hadn’t noticed before. “I’m currently working on repairing the worst of the damage the storm caused up here. You can hand me the nails, if you want, and I’ll keep hammering.”
Glinda made no response as she pulled the toolbox closer. Elphaba still hadn’t looked up as she slammed the hammer down on the nail she was currently trying to push down onto the deck. Glinda felt invisible, but she supposed it was fitting. She’d be going back to her existence as a ghost soon enough. Might as well get used to it now.
As the minutes quickly stretched into hours, Glinda grew more eager to say something, to fill the silence, but Elphaba had not looked up once. She only spoke when she needed another nail, but she refused to even glance Glinda’s way.
The cloudless sky beat down upon them relentlessly, the heat only getting worse with every moment that passed between them. Glinda thought for sure that Elphaba would announce her need for a break once the sun had reached its peak, but she never missed a beat, carrying on and continuing her work like a woman on a mission.
When Glinda did eventually speak, she had no idea how much time had passed. Her mouth moved of her own accord, as though her subconscious simply couldn’t take the silence anymore, surprising even herself when her voice broke through the unfiltered silence. “What is your family like?”
This finally elicited a response from her silent companion. Elphaba raised her head, turning her attention from her task to Glinda’s eyes, her brows pinched together as she regarded Glinda curiously. “My family?”
“Yeah.” Glinda nodded, twirling the nail she held absently between her fingers. “What are they like?”
Elphaba’s frown deepened, regarding Glinda curiously, and Glinda thought for a moment that she wasn’t going to answer. But then she sucked in a deep breath and sat back on her heels, her work temporarily abandoned as she answered, “It’s just my father and my sister.”
Where’s your mother? Glinda nearly asked, but she held her tongue as she shifted to her other side to relieve some of the weight from one side of her tail. “What are they like?” she asked instead, a deep, burning curiosity inside of her suddenly springing up for the first time.
Elphaba was silent for a long while, as though she were actually considering her answer. Finally, just when Glinda was sure she wasn’t actually going to answer, she spoke, her voice filling the space around them, a soft heat filling Glinda’s insides that had nothing to do with the weather.
“Nessa is sweet. Lively. She and my father sell the fish I bring back. She loves telling stories, especially about the other families in town, always filling me in on everything I miss when I’m out at sea.”
“And your father?” Glinda probed gently, when Elphaba had grown silent once more. “What is he like?”
Elphaba’s expression darkened at the mention of her father. Glinda didn’t miss the way her hand clenched absently around the hammer she still held, as though she wanted to slam it down. Glinda swallowed, wishing she hadn’t said anything, and was about to apologize for bringing the subject up, but Elphaba spoke again before she could.
“My father…he’s the reason I have to sail in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
Elphaba shrugged, her grip loosening on the hammer, but she didn’t let it go or set it down as she glanced at Glinda, meeting her eye for the first time all day. “He used to sail The Defiance, back when Nessa and I were kids. Our mother died giving birth to her, and there was never enough money for a nanny. Fishing is hardly a lucrative career, and we barely make enough to scrape by. So my father sailed and brought back the fish, and Nessa and I would sell it at our stall in the market. We used to make a higher profit off the haul that he would bring back, so there had been a time when we’d had enough to afford some help, but ever since my father’s accident…well, he was left land locked, had to let go everyone under our employ, and the duty of sailing quickly fell to me.”
“Why couldn’t your sister take over?” Glinda asked gently, inadvertently scooting closer to Elphaba, feeling the afternoon sun bearing down upon her back. “If she’s not allergic to water, surely she could–”
“My sister is in a wheelchair,” Elphaba cut in smoothly, her voice hardening once more as she turned back to her work. “Father never allowed her on The Defiance, so she never learned to sail. When times became hard and we had to let go what little help we had…it all fell on me.”
Though Elphaba tried hiding it as best she could, she wasn’t able to mask the bitterness laced into her tone as she snatched the nail out of Glinda’s hands and began pounding it into the wooden deck below.
Glinda simply watched as Elphaba pounded the hammer into the nail with more force than was required. She thought about touching the other woman’s hand and breaking the spell that seemed to come over her. She wanted to provide the same comfort that Elphaba had given her the other night, when she’d confessed the story of how she’d come to have a tail. But Elphaba was so determined to leave, and Glinda–as much as she wanted her to stay with her and abandon the family and responsibilities that seemed more like a chore than an actual life–didn’t want to make that decision any harder for her than it already seemed to be.
She didn’t know what had suddenly changed since Elphaba had crashed on this island with her, but Glinda didn’t recognize herself anymore. Since when did she care about a human and their feelings?
All she knew was that she was overcome with the sudden urge to comfort Elphaba and make her feel better. Because, despite everything that had happened and the many, many obstacles that had been in their way, Glinda had come to care for her, more than she’d ever cared for anyone as long as she could remember.
“Elphie, I…” she began, but trailed off, the words getting lost somewhere in her throat. Elphaba didn’t stop her ceaseless hammering, but Glinda didn’t miss the way her grip tightened, or the way her body stiffened at the nickname. Glinda paused, waiting for Elphaba to stop, to look up at her; maybe even to say something, even if it was simply to stop, or to go away. But she stayed where she was, apparently determined to ignore Glinda at all costs.
“Elphie, please.” Before she knew she’d even moved, Glinda reached out and placed her hand over the hand that continued to pound away with the hammer. She bit her lip when Elphaba stopped, as though Glinda were the thing she’d needed to come back to herself, but she still didn’t look up.
Glinda wished that Elphaba would acknowledge her; to give her a glimpse of the woman she’d seen the night Glinda had confessed her deepest secret. She wanted to see the love that had sparkled in Elphaba’s eyes once more, if only to reassure herself that it hadn’t all been a dream.
But Elphaba refused to meet her gaze.
“Elphie, look at me.” Glinda lifted her free hand and brought her index finger underneath Elphaba’s chin, slowly tilting her head to lift it up, forcing her to meet Glinda’s gaze. Elphaba allowed this, but she kept her gaze lowered until the last possible moment, until Glinda leaned in close enough that only a few inches separated them. “Please.”
That word seemed to be Elphaba’s undoing. Like a moth to a flame, Elphaba’s green eyes met Glinda’s brown ones, and Glinda was surprised to see tears silently flowing down the woman’s cheeks.
“Elphaba–”
“Glinda, please,” Elphaba pleaded, her watery eyes widening, looking at Glinda imploringly, though for what Glinda didn’t know. But Glinda didn’t look away–didn’t dare even blink–for fear that Elphaba would pull away again, leaving Glinda alone and adrift once more. “Don’t make this any harder than it already has to be.”
Glinda raised her hands, running her fingers through Elphaba’s braids, before lowering them and finding her cheeks, wiping the tears away with her thumbs while her fingers grazed the underside of her chin. “Then don’t leave me.”
“Glinda…I have to. My family needs me.”
“Oh Elphie, you sweet, silly little thing. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I need you, too?”
Elphaba closed her eyes and sighed, letting Glinda continue to rub soothing circles along her cheeks. Glinda wanted to freeze time, so that she could stay in this moment forever. The prospect of being alone once again was nearly enough to undo her. She tried conveying this to Elphaba through her touch; her eyes, even her posture. Her desire for Elphaba only grew by the minute, and had become overwhelming ever since their kiss in the ocean. How Elphaba had risked her life—her own safety—just to provide Glinda with some glimmer of comfort when she’d needed it.
“And did you,” Elphie replied, leaning in to ghost her lips over Glinda’s cheek, pressing them down lightly before drawing enough breath to go on, “ever think that maybe it’ll already be hard enough to say goodbye?”
Glinda merely stared at her one long moment before pushing her own lips into Elphaba’s.
Their two bodies quickly became one, a messy tangle of limbs, hair, and tail. Neither of them seemed to know where they wanted to go, and ended up flopping on the newly patched up deck, hammer, nails, and toolbox forgotten as they showered the other with kisses, caresses, and a desperate, burning need that quickly consumed them. They became lost in the mess, Glinda unsure which way was up. She was drowning in Elphaba, consumed by her, and exactly where she wanted to be. This was the moment that she wanted to stay in forever. She would gladly lose herself, and let the world fade away, if Elphaba was there with her.
Now that she knew what it was like to love someone else, she didn’t think she could go back to her lonely, isolated existence. She didn’t think she’d survive it.
But again, it was Elphaba who pulled away first. Elphaba who let the passion that sizzled between them fade away, as though it had never been. Her hands left Glinda’s body and she pushed herself back a few paces, putting several feet between them.
Glinda didn’t think she’d ever felt so alone.
“I think…” she began, meeting Glinda’s eye for one more moment, before she picked up the hammer again and got to her feet, turning away. “That’ll just about do.”
And then she disappeared down into the cabin, leaving Glinda alone and abandoned on the boat that would be gone by the morning.
If Elphaba had lived through a harder, more awkward night than the one that followed their latest kiss, she couldn’t think of one.
She’d thought for sure that Glinda would take her latest rejection as the sign that it was and leave for good, before things got too painful for both of them. Elphaba already hated herself for being unable to set clear boundaries for both of them—for being unable to truly admit how she felt for the blonde, both to herself and to Glinda—so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when she found Glinda curled up on her bed later that night, after Elphaba had reluctantly left The Defiance alone and unwatched.
Part of her had expected to return to a destroyed boat. It wouldn’t have surprised her if Glinda had decided to use her magic to undo all the work both of them had made toward getting The Defiance sea-worthy once more. Unlike her, Glinda had made her feelings quite clear, both about Elphaba and the fact that she was leaving first thing in the morning.
And yet, when she came back, the two items she’d found along the beach tucked safely away in her pocket, she’d found the boat exactly as she’d left it.
Night had settled over the island hours ago. Despite the late hour, however, Elphaba did not feel remotely tired. She didn’t know whether that was due to her nerves about leaving, or the prospect of seeing Glinda one last time before she set sail, but she wasn’t about to question it, especially with the two items she’d found and the task that she’d unexpectedly put upon herself.
After finding Glinda fast asleep on the bed, Elphaba merely took the tools that she needed and made her way to the deck once more, finding the brightest spot from which to work as she could. Luckily, it was on the other side of The Defiance, far enough away from the cabin that she wouldn’t make too much noise and wake Glinda up.
Once she sat down, she pulled the stones out of her trouser pocket, examined them closely with what little light the half-moon provided, then quickly set to work.
Elphaba hadn’t slept a wink by the time the sun made its appearance in the sky. She knew she would likely regret that later, but she certainly didn’t regret the work she’d completed. Not when she thought about what it would mean to her and (hopefully) Glinda.
Her entire body quivering like a bowl of jelly, Elphaba pushed set her tools aside and pulled herself up to shaky legs, stuffing the stones inside her trouser pocket before turning and making her way back toward the cabin.
“Glinda,” Elphaba called as she descended into the lower deck. “Glinda, I have something—”
But she trailed off as her gaze fell to the bed that now lay empty.
The sheets were askew, thrown to the side as though its occupant had made a hasty exit. Nothing else appeared disturbed or touched. If Elphaba hadn’t seen Glinda curled up in the bed earlier that night, before she’d set to work, she would have believed that she’d never been there at all.
“Glinda?” she called anyway, feeling foolish for the hope that maybe she would respond from some hidden corner, and that this was all some kind of secret siren farewell ritual. Or even a cruel joke for wreaking havoc on Glinda’s emotions. It would be no less than Elphaba deserved. She’d even welcome it, if it meant that Glinda was still here. It felt important to say goodbye, and she needed to give her the stone she’d worked so hard on, because even if she couldn’t bring herself to stay, she could at least give Glinda something to remember her by.
Just as Elphaba would cherish her own stone and look at it fondly for the rest of her days.
“Glinda,” she called again, a little more urgently. She strained her ears, hoping for any sign of the siren, but there was none. The cabin was as still and silent as it was whenever Elphaba sailed alone.
The disappointment was too much to take.
Feeling her eyes begin to brim with unshed tears forcing their way to the surface, Elphaba stuffed the stones back into her pocket and began tidying up as much as she could. All the linens would need to be washed when she got back, and what little food remained would have to be discarded. She would have to replace the netting, because that was the one thing she was unable to do with the limited resources she had on this island.
She began wiping down the counters, folded the dirty, spare linens and shoved them into an empty drawer, made the bed, then threw on her jumpsuit over her dirty, worn clothes. It would all need to be washed once she was home, herself included, but everything was dirty enough right now that it didn’t matter whether she changed or not.
When that was done, she waited a minute or two, feeling the stones heavily in her pocket, and listened, straining her ears for any sign of Glinda, and the telltale shuffle that would announce her presence. She took her goggles out of the pocket of her jumpsuit and fidgeted anxiously with the straps, unable to quite bring herself to step outside just yet.
She needed to get the boat on the water. She needed to set sail soon if she had any hope of getting back to Rush Margins by sundown. Waiting around for no good reason other than to hope that her precious siren would find it in her heart to come back and say goodbye felt so foolish and ridiculous that the Elphaba she’d been before setting sail would’ve scoffed. Possibly even gone to see the town doctor for fear that she was going mad.
Yet here she was, under Glinda’s thrall after all, and completely helpless to do anything about it. One more minute, she promised herself as she continued twirling the goggles around in her hands, over and over and over. One more minute, then you need to leave.
But one minute quickly became two. Then three, then five. After ten minutes of nothing other than shifting on her uncomfortable legs and rubbing the tips of her fingers raw from twirling the goggles incessantly, she finally forced herself to admit to herself what she’d known all along:
Glinda wasn’t coming back.
Stupid, Elphaba chided herself as she climbed the stairs that led back out to the deck and threw the door open, stepping into the blinding late morning sun. Get a hold of yourself, Elphie. You’re a human, and Glinda’s a siren. It never would’ve—
She’d just referred to herself as Elphie. She paused, letting that sink in, before shaking her head and thrusting the goggles over her head. She wasn’t ‘Elphie,’ and she never would be again.
To get The Defiance to the ocean, Elphaba took the two tree trunks she’d cut and used to make two makeshift ramps and shoved them under the hull. Luckily the boat wasn’t that large, so it wasn’t too difficult. Once she managed that task, she walked around to the other side and pushed. She pushed with all her strength, until she got The Defiance rolling down the ramps, getting far enough to the beach that the nose dipped into the water.
Elphaba followed, double-checking to make sure that her boots were pulled up and zipped, her gloves were over her hands and were without holes, and that her hood and goggles were in place. Once she was satisfied that there was not a bit of skin showing, she turned back one last time toward the island, straining to catch a glimpse of the familiar siren, her gray, slimy tail, and her bright blonde locks.
The beach was empty.
Elphaba sighed, swallowing the stone that had lodged itself inside her throat. It felt oddly like hope, though it quickly sank to the bottom of her gut once she realized, perhaps for the first time, that she was truly alone. Glinda wasn’t coming. Elphaba had hurt her—cut her too deeply with her rejection and determination to get back home—and she had responded by returning to her solitary life.
And the worst of it was that Elphaba couldn’t even blame her.
So Elphaba took one last deep breath, steeling herself for a day spent out at sea after nearly a week safe on land, then turned back to The Defiance, determined to put Glinda and this island out of her mind once and for all.
It wasn’t until she’d set her boot on top of the wooden deck that she’d worked so hard to repair that she heard it.
“Elphaba!”
Elphaba’s heart nearly stopped at the sound of Glinda’s voice, high pitched and desperate. She spun around just in time to find Glinda slithering along on the beach, waving one of her hands in Elphaba’s direction. “Glinda?”
“Elphie, please! Wait! Don’t go yet.”
Feeling her heart soar back into her chest, Elphaba stepped back down from the boat and removed her goggles, pushing the hood from her head as she ran toward Glinda, who had only managed to move a couple more feet from the edge of the trees, her face pink and flushed from the exertion she’d put herself through.
Elphaba sunk down to her knees once she reached the siren, throwing the goggles on the sandy ground beside her and, before she knew what she was doing, cupped both of Glinda’s cheeks and pulled her in for the deepest, most passionate kiss she possibly could.
She’d always tasted good before, but this time she was positively delectable. There was a sweetness to her that hadn’t been there before, like that first taste of ripened fruit after being deprived of it for too long. She was like a cold glass of water after a day spent in the sun; like seeing a loved one after a lifetime apart.
She’d only been apart from Glinda for a night, but it was a night too long. Elphaba felt like she could breathe again, now that Glinda was in her arms.
And she didn’t want to let her go.
For a long moment—Elphaba had no idea how much time had passed—the only sound was that of the waves crashing along the sand, and the gentle breeze flowing all around them. Elphaba was hardly aware of any of it, too full of Glinda and the burning need for her that only grew with every breath she took.
This time, it was Glinda who pulled away, and Elphaba felt as though she were suffocating without the feel of her lips on hers. She felt the loss as painfully as one of her burns; as though someone had taken an axe and chopped off one of her limbs. Glinda may as well have, for how deeply and acutely she felt the loss, but she covered it by forcing a smile across her face, for Glinda’s sake more than hers. This was her doing, after all. If it wasn’t for Elphaba, they wouldn’t be saying goodbye in the first place.
“Elphie…I’m sorry for making this so hard for you,” Glinda said as she reached up and began running her thumb along her cheek–the only exposed bit of Elphaba’s skin. “You have your family, and you need to take care of them. It was selfish of me to expect you to stay here with me when you’ve got responsibilities and—”
“Please don’t apologize, Glinda.” Elphaba reached up and ran a gloved hand through Glinda’s thick blonde locks. “Please. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I said some horrible things, and—”
“It’s okay.” Glinda smiled, exposing her white, surprisingly dull teeth. Hadn’t she had fangs before? “I understand. You need to leave, and I won’t stand in your way. But…I wanted to say goodbye one last time. Before you…before you leave…”
It was too much to take. Elphaba had thought she was strong enough to say goodbye and go back to her life as though nothing had changed. But she realized now just how wrong she was. Because everything had changed. She’d learned what it was like to be loved by another person, truly loved, and it wasn’t something she could easily walk away from.
But also…looking into Glinda’s wide brown eyes, filled with more love and understanding than Elphaba had ever experienced—ever seen from another person—was enough for her to second-guess her decision. Was this the right decision? Were things as black and white as they seemed?
“Come with me,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “Please.”
“What?”
“Come with me,” Elphaba repeated, straightening with every word. “You used to be human. If it was magic that turned you into a siren, we can learn magic and figure out how to undo the spell. You don’t have to live like this anymore. You can finally be free, and—”
“I don’t know…”
“We made it work here.” Elphaba gathered Glinda’s hands in her own and held them to her heart, letting the blonde feel her heartbeat, grounding her and hoping to prove to her just how much she meant every word. “We can make it work there, too. Rush Margins is a coastal town. It’s practically on the beach, just like here. We could sneak you to the ocean when no one’s looking, and—”
“No.”
The word was enough to stun her, halting her in place. Her gaze snapped to Glinda’s, who stared right back, something like an apology reflected back. “What?”
“No, Elphie. I appreciate it, and what you want to do, but I’m not going to live in hiding. I’ve accepted who I am, even if it took me a long time. As much as we both might want to, we can’t just magically fix this. Make us work. We live two separate lives, and I’m sorry if I made you believe that we didn’t.”
“But…”
And, for the second time that morning, Glinda’s lips found hers.
This time Elphaba did not hold herself back. She allowed herself to feel everything—everything that Glinda was willing to give her. And she needed to give the siren that same passion; needed her to feel it just as hard and as fervently as she did, and words didn’t seem sufficient enough anymore.
So she wrapped her arms around Glinda’s shoulders and pulled herself up, sitting in her lap and deepening the kiss as much as she could. She gave as much as Glinda was willing to take, which was all of it. Neither of them seemed able to get enough: enough air, enough of each other. Enough time. Because while Elphaba could set out at any time, there would never be enough time.
Because no matter how long she put off her inevitable departure, she would, at some point, have to say goodbye.
And so, she let herself pretend that she had all the time in the world; that they had all the time in the world.
Only…it seemed that fate had something to say about it. Because she felt Glinda suddenly slip out from under her, pulling Elphaba back to the present. Her eyes snapped open, only where she expected to find Glinda crawling away from her, back to the treeline, away from her forever, she found Glinda hovering in the air.
Elphaba’s jaw dropped, stunned, as Glinda floated higher and higher above her, until she was several feet off the ground. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in a wide ‘O,’ though no sound came out. If this was Glinda’s magic at work, it appeared she was just as surprised by it as Elphaba was.
“Glinda, what–?”
And then a bright pink cloud appeared, as though from nowhere, and surrounded Glinda, enveloping her like a blanket, hiding her from Elphaba’s view.
Elphaba shot to her feet and screamed out for the girl she’d come to love more than anyone, even her own family, ready to catch her if she fell. She’d fly straight up to the heavens if she needed to, if it meant keeping her safe.
That didn’t turn out to be necessary, however, as the pink cloud dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, exposing Glinda once more.
Only…it wasn’t the Glinda that Elphaba had come to know.
Her skin, once slimy and scaly, though it had slowly become more fleshy the longer Elphaba had known her, was pale and smooth, as fresh and clear as that of a newborn’s. Her eyes had turned bright blue where before they had been brown, but it was her bottom half that had changed the most.
Because where there had been a tail, there were now two legs. Two very long, luscious legs.
And as Elphaba stared up at her, watching the transformation that felt more like something out of a fairy tale book, she watched as a beautiful knee length ochre dress, with ruffles adorning the front, appeared around the blonde's body, looking much more like Glinda than those dark scales ever had.
The moment Glinda’s feet touched the ground, she immediately toppled to the ground with a soft oomph. Elphaba ran to catch her in her arms, shocked by how soft and gentle her flesh now was.
“Glinda, you’re…how…what…” Elphaba’s thoughts raced, but luckily Glinda saved her from trying to piece together a coherent thought. It seemed she was only capable of staring at the new vision of Glinda in front of her.
“Elphie…I’m human!”
“Yes.” Elphaba nodded, looking Glinda’s new form over. “I-I can s-see that. But…how?”
She expected Glinda to be just as shocked and surprised as she was, but the smooth little twist of her lips told a very different story. “I’m sorry, Elphie. I couldn’t tell you.”
“Couldn’t tell me what?”
“That it was all part of the curse,” Glinda replied, scooping Elphaba’s hands in both of hers, bringing them up to her chest, just as Elphaba had done with her own, what felt like forever ago now. “The only way I would ever become human again was if someone fell in love with the siren.” She spat the last two words out as though they were a curse. “And I was forbidden to speak of it. If I did, my tongue would twist inside my mouth. I could only tell you about my past.”
“But…why?”
Glinda smiled sadly, reaching up to cup Elphaba’s cheeks with her new, very human hands. “Because Morrible designed the curse to punish. I spurned a prince. I was seen as selfish, ungrateful, and vain, so turning into a siren and having to find someone to fall in love with was seen as the ultimate punishment. Especially since sirens are meant to lure humans to their deaths. What human could ever fall in love with a creature like that? It was seen as an impossible task, and until now, it has been.”
Elphaba was silent, letting Glinda’s words sink in as she watched the tears stream silently down her cheeks. She reached up and wiped them away gently, grateful when the woman in front of her did not pull away.
“One who is just as monstrous,” she answered simply, as though it should’ve been obvious. “That Morrible woman failed to take into account someone like me.”
More tears fell from Glinda’s eyes, but Elphaba didn’t give them a chance to fall before she leaned over and kissed Glinda once more. She didn’t think she’d ever been so happy before; she’d never felt relief this fresh, this potent. Glinda was human. That meant…
“Glinda!” she exclaimed, pulling away from the blonde, though she continued to hold tightly to her arms. “You have to come with me now! There’s nothing holding you back—”
“I don’t know,” Glinda cut in, her eyes wide and unsure. “It’s been so long, and I…”
“Are coming with me,” Elphaba replied firmly as she stood up, gently guiding Glinda to her wobbly feet as well. It was like watching a baby deer try to walk for the first time. Glinda may have been human once, but she’d spent the last century as a siren, swimming in the sea. Walking again would take some getting used to.
But Elphaba would help her. She would be by Glinda’s side, as long as it took.
So, she draped one of Glinda’s arms around her shoulders, holding on to both of her hands as she walked them slowly but steadily to The Defiance, grateful when Glinda didn’t offer up any more resistance.
She helped Glinda sit on one of the bench seats in the corner, then went back to the beach to grab the goggles she’d abandoned in her haste to get to Glinda. After putting them on, she started the boat and began steering them away from the island that Glinda had once called home.
With Glinda, everything felt different. She would take her back to Rush Margins, and convince Frex to hire someone to take over the fishing duties from here on out. Because she and Glinda had a life to live, and it wouldn’t be spent doing something they didn’t want to do. They’d both once dreamed of attending Shiz University. Somehow, it didn’t seem so out of reach anymore. They could do it. They could apply and attend, and they’d do it together.
This was the first day of the rest of their lives. They didn’t need to figure it all out right now.
For now, Elphaba would settle for sailing them off into the distance.
Everything else could wait.
Finis